


forever and a day

by Oaklin



Series: Forever Everything [33]
Category: International Wrestling Syndicate, Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Passive-aggression, Stupid Boys being Stupid, Swearing, all kinds of other aggression too, and SeXXXy Eddy, mentions of Franky the Mobster, obligatory Kevin Steen warning, stealth angst, stealth romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 21:28:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9403601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oaklin/pseuds/Oaklin
Summary: Sometimes the ride is worth the pain.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello ^.^
> 
> Welcome to your weekly dose of inane bullshit! I feel like series has become some sort of really strange sitcom of some sort, complete with a laugh track at my poor jokes and the Benny Hills theme during the action scenes.
> 
> No? Just me?
> 
> Anyway, enjoy and have a good week <3

“You are such a sore loser," Kevin mumbles, ripping the velcro of his bootstrap viciously. Sami sighs, listening to the slight tear as the stitches threaten to cave under the strain.

Sami rolls his shoulders until his head is snapped all the way back, his eyes trained on the ceiling and his head pounding already. He slips his foot down off the bench listening to the muted thump it makes as it plops onto the floor beneath his seat. Reaching up, Sami wraps a hand around his abdomen, curling his fingers in the fabric of his t-shirt, wincing a little as his arm brushes gently across his bruises hidden under his clothes.

“Maybe," he concedes with a sniff, rolling his neck so he can eye Kevin without looking directly at him.

He probably shouldn't have bothered, as Kevin catches onto the movement quickly, turning his head and catching Sami in the act, their eyes locking for a long moment. Sami resists the urge to look away, feeling both determined and wary, though he's not sure why.

-it's _Kevin_ -

Exactly. He's not going to **hurt** me.

-your **_bruises_ ** say _otherwise_ -

That is **completely** different.

-whats a few broken ribs between **_friends?_** -

Wrestling is _wrestling_. The **pain** is **_worth it_**.

-but is it necessary?-

“Didn't think you would admit to feeling human emotions like the rest of us lowly-"

Sami snaps his head up out of the mildly uncomfortable position, turning fully toward Kevin with a glare.

“Are you serious right now? I have never claimed to- I get more emotional than you! I cried for an hour when we hit that squirrel last month!" Sami says heatedly, releasing the fabric of his shirt to wave exasperated hands in Kevin's direction, gesturing wildly, though how it helps his point, he is not sure.

“I mean, to be fair, you did too, but for the love of-"

“Okay, fine, you are a whiny bitch who bawls about everything. We get it. No need to brag." Kevin says, hauling himself up from his seat, stuffing a handful of tape in his bag as he does so. He pauses for a moment once he is standing, flexing his shoulders briefly before stretching up, his back cracking loudly.

“You're mad that you lost. It's perfectly normal. No need to start catty fights with me to try and bandage your wounded ego." Kevin goes on conversationally, the condescension in his voice making Sami's hackles rise. Kevin flashes him a smile that is all teeth and painted-on understanding and Sami just kind of wants to kick him strait in the balls for a heartbeat, before he reins himself in.

“Papa Kevin understands. You wanna come sit on my knee and tell me all about your short comings?" Kevin adds with a flourish and a completely uncalled for eyebrow wiggle, that makes the urge to hit him well up again.

Sami leans back against the wall, moving away from Kevin and his bizzare behavior, flexing his jaw and attempting to find something (anything) to say that is not outraged spluttering.

-didn't even _start_ this discussion-

I think that is the point.

-to what **end** exactly?-

Who the hell knows. It's Kevin. Why does he do **_anything_ _?_**

- ** _need_** -

Well.

Yes.

But I don’t think that that applies here.

-why not?-

Because there is nothing here he _needs_ -

“That is the **weirdest** thing I think you have ever said.” Sami screws up his face in contemplation for a moment, then shrugs, “Well, it’s in the top ten at least.”

He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees and pinning Kevin with a sincere stare, wanting the conversation to stop being so Kevin’s-assholery-centric. He reaches out with on hand, resting his fingers against Kevin’s thigh, the warmth seeping up to meet him.

Sami ignores the way Kevin’s close proximity makes his heart race.

More _**important** _ things right now.

-now hang on a minute-

No.

“Kevin, listen, can we please just-”

“Wow, what the fuck did I miss?”

Sami turns toward the door, blinking, feeling like some odd haze enveloping Kevin and himself had been lifted. Kevin shifts back, away from Sami, and Sami’s hand falls away from Kevin’s body, that abrupt lack of contact leaving Sami feeling bereft and cold.

Beef waves his shirt at them, water still dripping off him, his hair still plastered to his head after his shower.

“I leave for five minutes and I come back to you guys discussing daddy kinks and blow jobs.” He waves a finger at Sami, looking comically stern for a moment, “Now, Sami, that is not at all how you should let yourself be treated. You can’t just go down on someone after they literally just spent the last half hour stomping you into the canvas. Jesus, have some self respect.”

Beef throws his shirt over his shoulder, turning to Kevin with a mischievous look in his eye.

“Although, I have to say, I’m super proud of you man. Finally scrapped up the courage to stop being such a sniveling pussy and man the fuck up-”

-uh-

He _should_ stop that probably.

Sami feels rather than sees Kevin tense up. Sami raises his eyes, looking up at Kevin to see irritation etched across his face.

That should not be **relieving**.

- _ **anything** _ that is not murderous rage is good-

Fair.

Sami swiftly snatches a spare sock out of his bag and lashes out, swiping it across the side of Beef’s leg as he saunters past.

Beef lets out a whine, leaning down awkwardly to clutch at his no doubt grievous injury, before shuffling backwards, away from Sami and Kevin. He gives Sami a supremely wounded look while he stumbles back, pouting exaggeratedly.

“Sami why would you do such a thing?” Beef whines loudly.

Sami squints at Beef, drawing in a breath and releasing it in relief when Kevin snorts derisively. Sami relaxes marginally as Kevin drops a heavy hand on his shoulder and slams himself down on the bench, his body pressing into Sami’s, threatening to shove him off the bench. Sami spares a look at Kevin, blinking at the odd stare that meets him, before the breathless moment is over and Kevin reaches over to drag his shoes across the floor, slipping them on and becoming very involved in lacing them up.

Sami blinks for a moment, heart racing and mind befuddled.

-focus-

Drawing his attention back to Beef, he reaches out a foot and pokes the leg he ‘wounded’.

“Because, Beef, I like you alive. But for some unknown reason, you are determined to die a horrific death at the hands of your own hubris and I do not understand why-”

“Okay, get up. We’re going.”

Sami looks up toward the door and the voice, halting his reprimand and cocking his head in curiosity.

Pierre raises an eyebrow in response to Sami’s quizzical look, not saying anything, just jerking his head behind him. Sami hesitates, glancing over to Beef, who opens his mouth, only to wilt as Pierre turns a cold, warning look in his direction. Beef cringes back a bit, looking chastised, before reaching out and tapping a fist to Sami’s forehead.

“Ah well, looks like mom says I have to go do something productive. Have fun you two!” Beef says with a wink and a furtive glance at a disapproving Pierre.

Pierre shakes his head, eyeing Beef with an air a vaguely amused annoyance. “I’d never raise a pain in the ass like you.” Pierre turns his steady, calculating gaze to Sami, eyeing him and Kevin closely. “Come on. I haven’t got all day.”

Sami blinks, more confused than before, but Kevin rolls to his feet, the loss of his body heat sending Sami off balance for a moment. Kevin jerks his bag up and slings it over his shoulder, striding forward before stopping abruptly in the middle of the room and spinning around, leveling a heated glare at Sami, confusing Sami even more.

Kevin stands there, shifting from giving Sami the evil eye to sending Pierre vaguely pleading looks.

“Why is he riding with us?” Kevin asks Pierre loudly, sounding so petulant that Sami has to stifle a chuckle.

Which earns him another dirty look.

-surprise-

Pierre looks less than impressed with Kevin’s antics. He just stares at Kevin for a long moment, completely stone faced, before turning and giving Sami a somewhat gentler look.

“Come on. Last time. Anyone who doesn’t get the hell in the car, gets left behind.” Pierre turns as he finishes speaking, heading through the doorway he came in, car keys jangling in his fingers.

Beef looks up from his back, looking eager and staring to stand, mouth open like he wants to say something. Before he gets a chance to utter a word, Pierre pauses just outside the door, snapping one hand up in the air, his voice coming out firm and a little louder this time.

“Not you. You are Franky’s problem today.”

Beef sags, looking slightly dejected, “Aw, don’t you love me any more mommy? Why are you pawning me off on dad all of a sudden? How come they get to go and I don’t?”

“Because I had to drive you all over hell’s creation looking for that fucking apartment. Don’t feel too bad though, Eddy’s riding with you guys, so you two can cause all kinds of problems that are not my responsibility.” Pierre replies, already heading down the hall.

Beef chirps happily at that, sharing a happy wave with Sami before going back to his stuff. Sami snatches his own things up, hurrying across the room, pausing briefly beside Kevin and taking in the strangely lost look on his face. Unable to parse out why Kevin would be quite so upset, Sami nudges him slightly, giving him a hesitant smile that is not returned before heading out the door after Pierre.

* * *

“What the fuck are we even doing right now?”

“You know, for someone getting free food, you sure do complain a lot. If you want to pick up the bill, you are more than welcome to.”

Whatever else Kevin was about to say dies in his throat and he snaps his mouth shut, cramming a forkful of rice in his mouth and grumbling something around it that is so quiet Sami doesn't pick it up. Pierre looks smug briefly before picking his own fork back up and chasing chicken and rice around in his takeout box.

Sami can't help the fondness that creeps up his chest at the interaction, although it's tempered somewhat by the strange looks he keeps getting from Kevin.

They are filled with something that looks like an odd combination of fear and sadness and Sami doesn't know what to make of them quite yet, or why Kevin would be looking at him in the first place, when Kevin is still clearly upset with him. Even though in all honesty, _Sami_ is the one who should be **upset** , because it was _**Kevin** _ who came out and-

No.

-hey. easy-

It is fine.

“You have soy sauce on your cheek."

Sami snaps a hand up reflexively, stilling his fingers at the last second, right before he wipes at his mouth. Heat rising in his cheeks, he reaches for a napkin, his parents gently chiding voices ringing in his ears as he meekly scrubs at his lips. Turning as he drops the napkin in his lap, he raises his chin for inspection, looking at Kevin expectantly.

“Well? Did I get it?" Sami asks in response to Kevin silence, cocking his head at the still, deer-in-the-headlight look he is getting from the other man.

What is going _on_.

 **Why** is he acting so _ **weird?**_

-yeah, because that is not a common occurrence or anything-

Well.

Okay.

Fair.

Still. He is being way more obtuse than usual.

-uh huh-

The silence stretches on for another long moment. Sami slowly relaxes out of his posture, blinking and making aborted efforts to say or do **_anything_ ** to ease the tension. Pierre is seemingly oblivious, absorbed in his sweet and sour chicken. Sami spares a moment to flash him stilted, pleading looks, to no avail. Pierre doesn't even look up from arranging the chicken into what looks like little stick figures.

Finally, after another tense moment, Kevin throws his own napkin at Sami, muttering so low that Sami has to strain to hear him.

“Yeah, you got it. Now wipe the rest of that idiot face off why don't you."

Sami blinks down at the neatly folded paper in his lap, brain shorting out for half a second, before incredulity takes over and gives him back his voice.

“That isn't even a good insult. Are you _feeling_ okay?" Sami says, reaching out and pressing a palm to Kevin's forehead, the heat from Kevin’s skin sending a jolt through Sami's body.

“Fuck you." Kevin growls, slapping Sami's hand away lightly. “My insults are excellent at _**all** _ times. You're just jealous that I'm so cleaver."

“Yeah, **that's** what I'm jealous of."

-oh-

 **Uh**.

 ** _Wait_**.

“ _Um_." Sami blurts, embarrassment creeping up his back, although it is for completely different reasons this time.

Fuck.

Kevin is looking at him with confusion, squinting at him like Sami has grown an extra head or told him that he didn't want to wrestle any more.

Sami bolts upright, springing up off the bench and taking a few steps away, scattering his takeout carton as he goes.

“Hey, where the fuck-"

“I'm going to go find some desert somewhere.” Sami babbles somewhat hysterically, trying to fight down the butterflies in his stomach and find something ins his chest resembling a post-puberty tone of voice. “I think I saw a bakery down the street when we were driving up here. You guys want anything? I could pick you up something. My treat."

-breath maybe?-

Sami pulls in a deep breath.

“It‘s such a beautiful day and to be honest, I‘d rather have ice cream. Wouldn‘t you? I really love ice cream on hot days. And warm days. And chilly days. Any day really. You can never go wrong with ice cream. Still, pastries are nice too. And donuts. And cookies. And-”

-not what I meant-

“I mean, it’s only fair, since you bought lunch-" he indicates Pierre, who is still determinedly not paying the two of them any mind at all, “-and you..."

Sami squints at Kevin for a long moment, completely drawing a blank, like someone short circuited his brain.

“Well. You didn‘t really do anything. But whatever-”

Kevin levers himself up into a standing position, jostling Pierre, who finally looks up from his food to observe the two of them with what appears to be amusement on his face.

-glad **someone** is having fun-

“I beat you! Goddamn it, why do I never get any _**fucking** _ credit for anything I do! You beat up that fucking blond bitch and get praised to high hell for it! Sanders, your dumb ass, and my majesty get our asses handed to us because of **_you_ ** and I get all the blame! What the **fuck** -”

Sami squawks indignantly, outrage overwhelming him and drowning out the humiliation.

“What? That was so _**not**_ my fault! And what do you mean, _you_ never get credit for anything? The whole goddamn locker room wants to be you! You’ve got that-” Sami waves a vague hand in the air, unable to articulate all that makes Kevin so much **_more_ ** ‘it’ than anyone else in their little neck of the woods, but so sure that Kevin **_is_ ** ‘it’ and **_so much more_** , that it physically pains him that Kevin seems so blind about himself.

“Ug. You know what I _mean_. Actually, you probably **don’t** but-”

“There’s that ice cream you wanted.”

Sami turns, startled. Pierre, silent for so long that Sami had almost forgot he was there, is pointing down the concrete pathway, just past Kevin’s irate bulk. A little way down, a man stands, pushing a tiny ice cream cart around in the wet grass and looking mildly put out.

Sami perks up, completely forgetting what he had been shouting about, all the anger draining out of him as anticipation takes it’s place.

Score!

“Oh shit!” Sami blurts, trying to scoot around Kevin, eyes going wide as excitement flows through him.

Kevin takes a step back as Sami plants a hand on his shoulder. “What the fuck are you on about-”

“Not you! Move!” Sami orders, moving forward and shoving Kevin out of the way with the hand on his shoulder as he goes. Kevin lets out a distressed whine as he stumbles away from Sami. Sami feels vaguely bad, in the back of his mind, but he crushes down the urge to turn around and apologize for now.

-not like it would _matter_ either way-

“Hey! Sami come the hell back here!”

Sami turns briefly, sticking a defiant tongue out and sniffing disdainfully in Kevin’s direction.

“You’re a drag! I’m gonna go do something enjoyable! Jerk!”

Sami spins back around and bolts down the path, rushing down the sidewalk, splashing through the puddles as he goes.

“Are you seriously ditching me for ice cream?”

Sami turns against his better judgment, opening his mouth to reply. Pierre beats him to it. Standing up finally, he claps Kevin on the shoulders with both hands. Steering Kevin forward a few steps, Pierre smiles with a look of amused, if exasperated, fondness in his eyes.

“Then why don’t you come with us if you don’t want to be alone?”

Kevin looks so comically blindsided by that comment that Sami can’t hold in the giggle. He shuts up almost immediately, as Pierre drops the smile and turns serious abruptly.

“But first, you two idiots are going to help me clean up this fucking mess.”

“Aw! But mom-” Sami and Kevin whine in perfect, nasally harmony, though even as they complain Sami begins walking back to them and Kevin reaches down to pick up a discarded takeout carton.

“I don’t want to hear it. I’m not picking up after you two. There is only so much of that I can take in one day.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hoo-lee-shit. The goddamn drama. Can you even handle it? They certainly can't. Pierre kinda can, but that is because Mama Pierre don't put up with anybody's shit. He has to put up with Franky 90% of the time, so he is a pro at dealing with insane bullshittery.
> 
> In the tiny, idiot babies defense, there was something resembling an actual conversation here. And it was ALMOST about what they are actually upset with each other about. Not quite, but they are getting there. Slow as molasses, but they are.
> 
> Hope you liked it and see you next week :)


End file.
